


Proper Respect

by Gilli_ann



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff and Crack, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-04-06 11:20:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4219782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gilli_ann/pseuds/Gilli_ann
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur discovers how much he likes it when Merlin misbehaves and makes free with his king, just as long as he addresses him respectfully. In fact, nothing turns Arthur on more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Proper Respect

**Author's Note:**

> The story goes AU immediately after episode 4:4 when Merlin jumps Arthur in public - ostensibly to get at his keys.
> 
> Disclaimer: The characters belong to the BBC and Shine TV. I intend no copyright infringement and make no profit.

Arthur couldn't stop thinking about it.

It had been embarrassing. Merlin's behaviour was frequently _incredibly_ inappropriate. He didn't know why he put up with such a bumbling disrespectful fool of a manservant.

Sitting at the high table in the evening, digging into his dinner with gusto, Arthur repeatedly pondered the last days' events. He turned the recent weirdness that was Merlin over in his mind, looking at it from every angle.

Lurking by Arthur's bed in the early morning day after day? Grabbing his king and wrestling him to the floor in the middle of council, those long delicate fingers sliding along Arthur's bare skin, that slim strong body rubbing up against Arthur's most sensitive places as the two of them thrashed about.... 

He just couldn't stop thinking about it. 

There could only be one reason. Merlin wanted him, _that_ way. Maybe he was in love. But whether or not, he was clearly mad with lust, unable to keep his fingers and his urges to himself. Wild with desire both in public and in private. 

Arthur should be appalled. He knew he should ban Merlin from Camelot at once. Send him packing. Perhaps strip him of his breeches and send him to the stocks like that. A king should not accept such blatantly indecent behaviour from a servant. 

Except.... this was _Merlin_. And Arthur had to admit in his secret heart of hearts that he'd rather liked it.

Or, well; - he'd more than liked it. 

He had actually been _thrilled_. Enough so that he woke in the middle of that night, hard as an iron rod, brimming with lust. Memories of Merlin's demanding hands on his skin flickered teasingly at the edge of his mind, blending with remnants of dreams that were so shameless they made Arthur blush and hide his face in the golden-red cushions even as he took himself in hand and started stroking. 

Those forceful insistent antics on the floor! Thinking about it made heat course along his limbs like licks of fire. Merlin pushing him, manhandling him for goodness' sake, holding him down! He moaned into the pillow and his hand picked up speed, pumping, his pelvis moving in eager counterpoint. And Merlin had called him... had called him... had actually called him.... Oh, gods! Yes! 

Arthur came with a shout, pulsing over and again into the palm of his sweaty hand. He couldn't remember the last time it had been this good, this intense, this perfect. 

At last he drew a slow, sated breath, sinking back on the bed while lazily wiping his hand on the bed-covers. There would be more laundry for Merlin to manage, but it was his own fault. 

Arthur grinned, wickedly unrepentant, and slid back into new delicious dreams.

* * * *

When he next woke, sunlight was streaming into the room, but no infatuated Merlin was hovering by the royal bed, ogling his liege and preparing to come up with some maniacal and blatantly ridiculous excuse. 

Arthur grimaced. He felt cheated. And disappointed. This state of affairs clearly couldn't be allowed to continue. 

He got up, pulled on his clothes completely unaided, braced himself and set his jaw. He would take the bull by the horns. He had bravely faced that gigantic dragon and slain it, hadn't he? He had killed many monsters! He could certainly face his idiot manservant and tell him what for! 

Boldly staring his embarrassed fears and burning desires square in the eye, he knew without a doubt that desire would carry the day.

Yes. He was going to act.

* * * *

Merlin eventually arrived, horribly late, yawning as if he'd not had an hour's sleep, the lazy sod. Nevertheless, to add insult to injury, he was grinning most dopily.

Arthur scowled. He wasn't going to drag this out. He was the king, by the gods! 

Immediately going on the offensive, he turned his back to Merlin and squared his shoulders purposefully. 

“Merlin, come here. Help me get this tunic settled.” 

“Yes, Arthur - Sire,” Merlin answered, deceptively docile. He stepped up respectfully behind Arthur and reached for his shoulders. 

Arthur's hands shot up and clamped down like vices, dragging Merlin's slender arms forward across his own shoulders, pulling them further down and holding them firmly against his chest in a secure and damn near unbreakable grip.

Merlin was taken completely by surprise. He struggled briefly, trying to pull free, but soon gave up. He was held captive, draped against Arthur's back and across the broad royal shoulders. 

“Sire?” Merlin managed. 

Arthur pulled him even closer and pushed his arse out to emphasize the point he was going to make. He gulped, overcome by nervousness for a second, but rallied at once and got himself back under control. He could do this! 

“I'll let you.... you can do whatever you'd like, Merlin. I _know_ what you want – I understand. I want you to.... and I'll enjoy it, as long as you.... as long as you..." 

"As long as I... what?" Merlin panted, his arms across Arthur's shoulders suddenly tensing with intent. He pulled Arthur back towards his chest, and Arthur relaxed his grip. Merlin's hands were strong and sure now. Determined and demanding. Clearly he was not planning to let go.

Arthur's chest filled with jubilation. He moaned, elated at how good it felt to be handled like this. To be held in a firm grip, to be restrained by strong arms, to submit to someone like this. 

Merlin shook him gently. “As long as I...?” he repeated. 

Arthur groaned in exasperation. Merlin was so _dense_ , sometimes! Did he need everything spelled out? Hadn't he known by instinct exactly what to do and what to say, the last time they wrestled and he had Arthur in a lock-hold? 

Merlin leaned in, pushing up against Arthur's backside, breathing warm air across his cheek. 

"Arthur. You have to spell it out in plain words." 

"You can do whatever you want as long as you address me with my proper _title_ whileyou're _doing_ it," Arthur blurted out in a rush, mortified at having to voice his desire, yet unable to forgo this glorious opportunity. Temptation had the better of him. And temptation that looked and felt and smelled and sounded like Merlin would have the better of the very best of men. Just now, there wasn't the slightest doubt in Arthur's mind about that.

Merlin huffed out a hot and eager little sound, - not quite a laugh, not quite a snort, not quite a gasp. 

His hands slid from Arthur's shoulders to his hips, latching on firmly. 

Arthur had noticed more than once that Merlin possessed a surprising, wiry strength for all that he had such a lanky frame. It didn't come entirely unexpected when Merlin lifted him and heaved him forward without further ado, throwing him sprawling face first on the red (decidedly semen-smelling) silk covers of Arthur's own stately bed. 

Arthur's heart was racing. His mind reeled. He was sweating. That scent! This position! And Merlin - unpredictable. Sometimes-crazy. Strange, but never boring. Frequently insanely brave. Oh yes, Merlin could be trusted to put his heart and soul and mysterious mind into it, if he truly wanted this. And if not, wild horses would never move him to it. 

But Merlin _was_ moving. Forcefully, purposefully, and without any hesitation. 

He yanked Arthur's belt off, pushed his tunic up, gripped the waist of his breeches and pulled them down. Down to his thighs. Down to his knees. 

Chill air played across Arthur's suddenly-exposed behind. His skin pebbled. He tensed.

Merlin quickly climbed onto the bed and straddled Arthur's prone body, pushing down determinedly to keep him in place. He braced his hands for a moment on Arthur's shoulders. 

This was happening! Arthur wanted to scream with joy, but his throat clenched and the sound he managed was more like a pitiful squawk. Never mind. Merlin's solid weight was pressing him into the bed. It felt glorious.

Merlin was whispering now, nonsense sounds as he shifted backwards. His warm palms slid across the dip of Arthur's lower back and steadily downwards, pressing into his firm taut buttocks and caressing his skin as they moved down, then up, then down, then up again. One tantalizing fingertip traced Arthur's cleft on each pass. 

Arthur was writhing under Merlin's ministrations. _This was really happening!_

Merlin's weight shifted again. His knees pressed against Arthur's thighs and he leaned forward, covering his liege with his own slender body, moving in to let the tip of his tongue dance briefly over Arthur's glowing ear. Hot breath whispered along the moist trail he'd made on Arthur's sensitive skin, making it tingle. 

Arthur quivered from head to toes.

"Arse in the air, if you please, _your majesty_ ," Merlin said.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was originally posted to LJ in connection with a 'Thank you for the fanservice' comment fest.


End file.
